If a character is not expressing sexual interest, it doesn’t mean that they’re written poorly. It just means they’re written differently. Any level of sexual interest is a normal level of sexual interest, and seeing someone criticize a book for portraying a character who does’t fit into the expectations regarding a certain group just raises my hackles because it is a fundamental denial of the validity of my own experience.

But it’s slightly frustrating that if I wear something more revealing it’s automatically assumed that I’m trying to send the message that I’m sexually available. That no matter what I wear it’s assumed that my clothing choices are telling people whether I’m a slut or a prude. There’s a parallel to the “male gaze” that is talked about so often in feminism; I call it the “sexual gaze.”

And I notice you say nothing about the opposite end of this spectrum—that a sexualshouldn’t be with an asexual because of forcing their sexuality onto them. It’s only the asexual, the ‘minimally sexual’ as you put it, who’s doing something wrong.

The next step in the promotion of rape culture is moving responsibility onto the asexual person. First, it is assumed that asexuals, by seeking out romantic relationships, have themselves to blame for any compatibility issues. Then it is assumed that the asexual person has to be the one to deal with the beast they’re unleashing, a beast that is pretty much fictitious.

However it is not this phenomena of ‘pure’ asexuals that I am calling in to question today, I am more interested in the idea of asexual love amongst sexuals. Does is happen? Is it even possible? In modern society sex without love is common place and unquestioned but the idea of love without sex is seen as completely implausible, ridiculous even.

The main problem here: there is no objective measure of whether or not the sex was “good”. We only have what the partners involved choose to mention — and hell, I wouldn’t ask for more. It’s not possible to have objectively good sex, not enjoy it, and finally have these people say, “Well, you had good sex, and you didn’t enjoy it. So I guess you really are asexual.” Not possible because you can’t define objectively good sex.

Recently there’s been a wave of friends inviting me to sex parties, which (if you’ve never had the experience) is a little like your accountant friends inviting you to a REALLY GOOD conference on depreciation schedules. You wanna go, because bookkeeping is one of those things that’s good to understand and because it’s a rigorous intellectual and social challenge, but somehow it’s just hard to find the time.

I’m certain that this can’t just be me, but so much of my trouble in figuring out my sexual and romantic identities has been from the fact that I talk in a certain language when it comes to people. I relate to them in a certain way, I conceptualize all sorts of things — sex, relationships, sexual feelings, etc. — in a certain way. And the way I understand the world is, in many ways, a fundamentally different way than most other people seem to understand it.

The thing the two sides have in common though, is that marriage is a given. Heck, it’s normal if a frum woman is married before the age of 20 and have a child every nine months until the have, at minimum, five kids running around. In a society that isn’t ruled by God’s law, it’s okay if people take a bit longer, just as long as they do find someone in the end.

Why is it I’ve never seen people mention annulment of marriage due to nonconsummation as an example of institutionalised anti-asexual attitudes? Some internet research leads me to conclude that laws like these are still on the books in a *lot* of places[1], and I’m pretty sure “if you don’t have sex your marriage isn’t real” counts as pretty damn anti-ace.

There is not even one “queer community” to begin with. Talking about it like it’s a monolithic entity is hugely inaccurate. We refer to it like there is one for simplicity’s sake, but in reality it’s just a bunch of related groups with vaguely similar goals. Sort of. Actually, that’s the problem, isn’t it? Each queer group needs to specifically delineate its goals and guidelines so that members know what to expect, and most of them (at least in my experience) fail to do so.